A String of Dreams
by Helen8462
Summary: "My name is Susanna Rojas. My friends call me Susan, but you should call me Anna." She flicked her hair again, twirling it absentmindedly around her fingers, watching him with a coy smile. Curious, he asked, "Why's that?" "Because I have a feeling we're going to be much more than friends." (A backstory for the "Straight Road" series [Ayala x OC])


_**A/N:** All my thanks to MiaCooper for absolutely everything and Morenita for her cultural advice. This is for Miss_Mil who needed some fluff in her life._

 _This backstory is part of the "Straight Road" collection of stories, an AU created by MiaCooper and me. If you're so inclined, please subscribe to the two of us, or find the series on AO3. (Or PM me for more information). We have interesting plans and would love for you to follow along._

* * *

 _How I knew_  
 _it was love?_

 _It was as if I had_  
 _fallen asleep_  
 _inside her soul_  
 _and awoke_  
 _to a string of dreams_  
 _rather than just_  
 _life._

 _-Christopher Poindexter_

* * *

 ** _November 1, 2373_**

"… and Ensign Vorik has come up with a way to enhance the efficiency of the plasma injectors by another 0.003 percent."

"We're winning the battle hundredths of a percent at a time, but I'll take it," Janeway says with mild sarcasm, leaning back in her chair. "Another glass of wine, Commander?" she asks, reaching for the bottle.

"I'm good, thanks," Chakotay replies, folding his napkin neatly by his now empty plate.

"Enough shop talk. Got any big weekend plans?"

"Is it the weekend again?" he smiles. "I've lost track."

"Indeed, it is."

"Ah," he sighs. "No, I'm afraid I forgot to fill my social calendar. How about you?"

She throws her head back and laughs. "Oh yes. I thought I might take off for the mountains. It's November first, you know. The start of ski season in Colorado. Thought I'd swing by Earth, maybe slalom around, kick my feet up, relax in front of the fire…" she jokes, trailing off when she notices his expression.

"What day is today?" he asks, face growing quickly serious.

"November first. You really are off track, aren't you?"

"November first," he parrots. "Twenty-three seventy-three. Damn."

"Something wrong?" she asks, suddenly concerned.

He shakes his head and then sets down his glass. "No, no. Nothing's wrong, but I have someone I need to see. I'm very sorry to eat and run."

She shrugs. "Not a problem, I have a book I've been wanting to finish anyway."

"Thanks for understanding," he says, moving from his seat. On his way around the table he places a hand on her shoulder and offers her a gentle squeeze. "Dinner was delicious," he says, and this time he actually means it.

"Have a good night."

And he disappears out the door.

* * *

 ** _February 2362_**

She caught his eye before the tram stopped moving.

Through his tinted window, the buildings of Medellín slowed from their high-speed blur down to the appropriate, but still busy, pace of city life. He'd been home for almost a week now, back to the room he used to share with his older brother, back to his mother's fantastic cooking, the smell of his father's fragrant cigars, and listening to his youngest sister prattle on about her college woes.

Coming home after months on a starship was always a jolt to the senses. The colors were more vivid planet-side, the air more crisp and flavorful, and bright, sunny days like this one made him want for nothing more than to stay with his feet planted on terra firma. If only he had a reason.

 _She could be my reason,_ he mused, singling out the stranger on the platform.

The small station, as well as the other people bustling around it, became progressively clearer – larger in the window – but she was the one he focused on. He first caught sight of her emerald-green dress from a hundred meters away. Striking, long black hair shining in the Colombian sun, deep tan, skirt wafting around her ankles, canvas bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He hoped – no, it was closer to a prayer – that she wasn't getting on the train he was about to exit.

Still focused on her, he hurried down the steps, not sure exactly why he found himself running – he had no idea what he would actually say when he reached her – but for some reason he had to get closer. This was an instinct he could not fight, even if he had wanted to.

He stumbled past a few people, not exactly shoving them aside, but not a particularly polite maneuvering either. His focus hadn't left her and as such, he was oblivious to his surroundings; the hustle of the platform, the intersection of tracks a few steps ahead, the tram that was heading straight for him.

In one extended moment as he stepped toward her, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and he watched her eyes widen in horror. And then he realized why.

The strong current of air caused by the wake of the tram as it flew past the crossing almost knocked him over.

Adrenaline surged as she ran to him, the rest of the crowd oblivious to what had almost just happened. He cast a sidelong look back down the tracks as the tram continued on, out of sight around a bend between the buildings. When he turned back, she was grabbing him by the hand.

 _"Ay, dios mío!"_ she exclaimed, pulling him back to reality. "Are you okay?"

He didn't register her words through the pounding in his ears. That in her haste she had interjected in his ancestral tongue, and not Standard, hadn't occurred to him either. He took note only that her voice reminded him of a choir of angels. "Hello?" she asked again, looking up at him.

Her dark eyes pierced him with concern, returning him to his senses.

"Uh. Yeah. _Si._ I mean, I'm fine."

"You almost got hit by that train!" she exclaimed. "You have to watch where you're going! They won't stop for you, you know."

"Apparently not," he said, feigning a laugh, trying to dispel the attention they had drawn thanks to her chastising.

With a huff she continued at a more appropriate volume. "What were you so focused on, anyway? Cause if you were thinking about work, you should really leave it at the office. Even a strong looking guy like you probably wouldn't win a fight with a _tranvía."_

"No," he chuckled lightly. "I guess I wouldn't. Something caught my eye. I'll be more careful." She tilted her head back slightly, making him feel exposed.

"What were you looking at anyway?" she prodded. " _Un fantasma_?"

"No," he dismissed with a shake of his head. "No, not a ghost," and then he took a chance and softly corrected, " _Un ángel_."

"Ooh…" she said, realization dawning on her face. "Smooth." Her hands flew to her hips. "You _were_ looking at me, weren't you?"

He swallowed hard and smiled a little. The reality of his plan to chase after a perfect stranger suddenly seemed very ill-advised. "Sorry, yes. I… I'm sorry. I should be going."

"Hey, wait a minute," she said, and he felt her touch his arm. "You don't have to run away. I'm flattered that you'd risk life and limb to say hello." Dark eyes looking up again and he was drawn into her gaze, "You were going to say hello, weren't you?"

"Uh, um. Yes," he said, shifting nervously, running a hand through his thick hair. "Hello."

She smiled broad and genuine, shattering everything tense within him. "Hello. Do you have a name?"

"Miguel, but my friends call me Mike."

"Okay, Mike. My name is Susanna Rojas. My friends call me Susan, but you should call me Anna." She flicked her hair again, twirling it absentmindedly around her fingers, watching him with a coy smile.

Curious, he asked, "Why's that?"

"Because I have a feeling we're going to be much more than friends."

Her words - in a tone so laced with insinuation that even a deaf man could perceive it – halted his breath once again. He felt the flush coming from deep inside and hoped that his cheeks, and his trousers, wouldn't betray the pure exhilaration in his heart.

Without warning she dissolved into laughter. Delicate hand covering her mouth, she shook her head trying to contain herself. "I'm sorry," she said and he'd have sworn that she'd snorted.

"Um…" He looked around, unsure for a moment if she was being put up to a stunt or just completely crazy but she was so damn beautiful, smiling and waving him off, that he really didn't care.

"Was that too much?" she asked, peering at him as her breathing steadies. "My idiot sister, I just came from lunch with her and she says that the reason I never land a date is that I'm not forward enough. But that just felt really strange and I'm so sorry. You seem like a nice guy, just ignore me."

"No, no," he gasped before she could turn and walk away. "It, um… it wasn't too much. I mean, I'll call you whatever you'd like... I'm just happy to talk to you."

His response must have been a good one, he realized, as she gifted him with another one of her sweet smiles. He'd only seen a few of them so far but he wanted – no, he needed – to see many, many more. She eyed him curiously for a moment, and he felt as if was being subjected to the best head-to-toe inspection of his life.

"You're kinda different," she said finally, hand coming to rest on her hip.

"I am?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Well, you nearly get run over staring at me. But then I strike up a conversation with you, feed you the perfect line and you just stand there. You're…" she tilted her head to the side again, catching and keeping his eye. "You're shy, aren't you?"

How she had seen right through him, sized him up completely over the course of just three minutes, he'd never understand. The fact-of-the-matter was, for all of his height and brawn, his confidence brought about by physical and mental training, his education and service, he was exactly 186 centimeters, 98 kilograms of broad-shouldered, dark-haired shyness when it came to meeting the fairer sex.

Suddenly, his shoes seemed very interesting.

In the distance he could make out the approach next arriving train. "My ride is almost here," she said, realizing the hour. "I have to catch it or I'll be late in getting back to work. I'd wait for you ask me out, but… well, like I said I don't have the time." She dipped her head down to draw his eyes back to hers. People had begun to brush past them, filing into line while the train hissed to a stop. "I'd like to bump into you again."

"You would?"

"Yeah. I think you're kinda cute." Another wonderful smile crossed her face and his knees felt weak. People were filing off the platform and they were bustled about by a few of them.

"You're going to miss your train."

She nodded and allowed herself to be carried with the crowd towards the doors. Lost to him for a brief moment, he panicked, an inescapable surge rising in him again to follow her. "I don't know how to find you!" he shouted once his eyes found hers once more.

"Tonight. Eight o'clock. Here," she yelled just before the doors closed.

He nodded enthusiastically and watched her train disappear down the track. After an extended minute he began to walk down the platform, one foot in front of the other, still seeing only her in his mind, unsure of the last time he took a breath.

He came to a sudden stop just before colliding with a railing.

A business man standing there huffed in annoyance and then walked away.

"Sorry," he offered, blushing again. "I just met someone." But the man was already gone.

He cleared his throat, put his hands in his pockets then turned around, repeated the length of the platform, went down the steps and away from the station.

Her name slipped off his tongue, softly, lost to the breeze.

"Anna," he said. "Her name is Anna."

It was the only name he'd ever need again.

* * *

She wore the same color dress, and he was glad for it. It was as though that deep shade of green had been created just for her. This time she had added jewelry to her ensemble, golden hoops in her ears and a simple braided chain around her delicate neck.

A calm fell over their second meeting - a comfort that he'd never felt before, only ever having observed it between friends and long-established couples. The butterflies that had accompanied him to the station flitted into the night as she spoke his name.

They found their way to dinner, but he didn't notice what they ate. There was music and wine, but what kind and how many glasses didn't seem to register.

All that mattered was that they talked, and if asked, even years later, he could recite every single word that fell from her perfect lips.

When the restaurant grew empty, and their voices tired, all that was left to be heard was the clatter of dishes as they were bused away. He led her out to the street, holding her delicate hand. Her laughter carried into the night and he wished only that he could bottle it for a time when he would need to smile. Heart threatening to pound through his chest, he took a chance, pressed his lips to hers and when she moved in to deepen the kiss he thought he had surely died.

Her hand cupping his cheek, warm as the noon-day sun, brought about their second kiss and admitted him entrance into heaven itself.

She walked away - skirt flowing under lamp light - and he felt as if part of himself went with her. Falling in love so quickly; he never thought it possible. But, there he was, on a street-corner not ten blocks from the apartment he grew up in, completely and hopelessly smitten.

Before she was completely out of sight, he took a small camera from his pocket. With it, he captured an image of the woman in a green dress, sauntering off with his heart.

* * *

"My sister wants to meet you," she said over a cup of morning tinto.

Warm air wafted through the outdoor café as they met for the fifth time in as many days.

"Okay," he agreed. "Any particular reason why?"

"Well, I've told her all about you and she doesn't believe you're real."

At that he had to smile in disbelief. "She thinks you're lying?"

"She was giving me grief for never having a date, then not ten minutes later I run into you. Or, well, you almost run into a train, _lo que sea."_

"Too much of a coincidence?"

"Apparently."

"Alright, where is she? You can parade me around."

"I'm afraid it won't be that simple," she said, taking another sip. "She won't be seen as a third wheel and she wouldn't be able to scrutinize you properly in front of my whole family."

"So, what then?"

"You said your brother is married?"

He nodded, pouring himself another cup from the carafe and freshening hers. "I'm assuming she wouldn't be interested in my sisters."

"Not likely, unless one of them has a cute boyfriend they want to donate."

"Uh, no."

"I figured as much. Got any single friends on that ship of yours? What was the name of it again?"

"The _Gage._ And yes, there are a few," he said with a shrug. "What's she like?"

Anna rubbed her brow. "She's three years older than I am. A dancer. Very high maintenance. Gorgeous with just the perfect amount of _loco_ to keep men from getting attached for too long. Suffice to say, your friend will have a lot of fun, if she doesn't eat him alive."

"Sounds like I bumped into the right sister," he said with a smile, tracing a pattern on the handle of his coffee mug. "You really think she wants a blind double date?"

"Yes, she expects it. Make sure he's at least as good looking as you are, and smart. Nothing but the best for Carmensita or we'll never hear the end of it."

"You think I'm good looking?" he prodded, a small grin playing across his face.

"Haven't I made that clear already?" Then she leaned across the wrought-iron table to place a kiss on his cheek. Her hand slid its way from his shoulder to his bicep and he inhaled her deeply, hair smelling of coffee and vanilla. Before she could retreat, he wound his fingers behind her neck, into her hair and gently pulled her closer, capturing her breath with his own.

Releasing her back to her seat he added, "I'd also like to hear more about how I'll still be around to face your sister's wrath when my buddy doesn't measure up."

"Oh, you'll be around," she winked, licking his coffee from her lips. "I'm counting on that."

* * *

Being allowed to wake naturally - sun streaming through the window, the busy sounds of the street below, and the enticing aroma of real coffee – was one of his favorite things about being on Earth. And on this morning he was relaxing lazily, soaking them all in. His childhood room had been made slightly less juvenile when his mother had painted and updated it, removing his brother's drum set and his jujitsu trophies, but it still felt like home.

Bedroom dappled in daylight, slightly drowsy, he thought of Anna and the evening they had shared. He first ran through his mind the new facts he had learned about her. She wasn't merely a teacher as she had let on, she was an accredited language expert, had once trekked to the summit of Aconcagua, and apparently she also played a mean guitar - but he should never ask her to sing.

All of this new information had been revealed thanks to her sister, who, other than sharing stunning good looks, couldn't have been more different from Anna. Carmen came across as brash, wild and lush, though he'd never admit as much to anyone out loud.

He also took the time to further cement Anna's mannerisms into his mind – the way she twirled her fork when she spoke, the flip of her hair when she was bored, how her hand naturally found its way into his own when they walked. And, of course, he'd memorized the feel of her lips, soft and supple, sweet as they said their goodbyes that evening.

Hearing movement in the kitchen tore him from his musings and thrust him headlong into the day. He had company, and now it was time to see what kind of night his friend had enjoyed, or survived, with Carmen.

He stretched up on his toes, bent down to the floor, then donned a fresh tee-shirt and shorts and made his way to the kitchen to assess the situation.

"Please," Chakotay said, without turning around. His guest was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of strong coffee. "Please, tell me your night was more successful than mine."

He raised an eyebrow, hiding a smirk and poured a cup. "Anna and I stayed and talked a while after you left to take her sister home."

"You talked?"

"Yeah."

"You weren't here when I got back, you're telling me you talked that whole time?"

He shrugged and Chakotay shook his head. "How many dates have you been on now?"

"Seven."

"I didn't realize that taking it slow was your new MO."

"What I do with Anna and when I do it, really isn't any of your business," he snapped back, a bit more harshly than he had intended.

Chakotay looked up with a smirk and set his coffee down in favor of a biscuit from the assortment of breads on the table. "Your mom make these?"

"Yeah," he said, calming back down. "So, did you hit it off with her sister, or what?"

Chakotay swallowed down his food. "These're good, what'd you say they're called?"

"Arepas. How was the rest of your night?" he pressed.

"What I did with Carmen really isn't any of your business," Chakotay parroted with a coy grin.

"Chakotay…" he warned.

"If you must know," his friend sighed, "she took me back to her place where we traded shots of something called Guaro until I thought my throat was going to burn its way right out of my neck. Then she led me to her room and danced around the bed pole until she was so dizzy that I had to help her off of it. The encore was when she threatened me with my own belt if I tried to leave without _pleasing_ her. Of course, I would have been happy to oblige had she not promptly passed out on the floor."

"That sounds oddly like the kind of night Anna thought you'd have."

"Well, thanks," Chakotay replied dryly, "but if you don't mind, please relay the message that I'm not interested in a second date."

"Consider it done."

"I'd say you owe me one, but the food was good so I'll let it slide."

"Thanks."

"I'm due back on the ship in three days, got places to be," Chakotay said, rising from his seat. "When do you report in?"

"Not for another week and a half. Pays to be security, no one needs us early."

"If they'd let us all carry side arms, we wouldn't need you, period," Chakotay retorted, swigging back the rest of his coffee. Then he snagged a chunk of bread before heading for the door. "Tell your folks thanks for the room. And hey, this was fun. Let's do it again some time when you find a girl with a half-way normal sister."

What Mike neglected to explain, as the door closed behind his friend, was that there'd never be another girl.

* * *

Three weeks after almost being run over by a train, and back on duty, he had a rare moment of expressed honesty.

"I'm going to marry her, Chakotay."

"What?"

"I'm telling you, I'm done." He stabbed at the non-descript meat on his tray. He always found his first meal back on board the ship was the hardest to swallow. Not that it really mattered what the food was, since leaving Anna he had lost all appetite.

"Damn, you have got it bad, haven't you?" Chakotay smirked. "You've only known her three weeks."

"Doesn't matter."

"We're going to be gone four months, you really think she's going to wait for a guy she hasn't even slept with yet?"

"I do."

"Did you ask her to?"

"I didn't have to."

Chakotay shook his head. "Man, I don't want to be near you when we get back and she's nowhere to be found."

"She'll be right there, right where she said she'd be."

"You're pretty confident about this," Chakotay realized. He finished the last bite off his fork then rose from his seat, pausing before heading to his duty shift. "I say, let's make it interesting. I'll bet you my best bottle of whatever I've got that you fizzle on her before we make it back. Or, she's found some other guy from the tram station to keep her warm."

Mike set down his utensils and met Chakotay's stare. "Deal."

His friend laughed, then lifted his tray and started away.

"And Chakotay," he added. "No Guaro. I want something good."

* * *

 ** _July 2363_**

A year and a half had passed since they first met, exactly eighty-seven days in total had been spent physically together – he knew because he had been counting – and he felt that he couldn't wait another moment to secure his future. This last tour had kept him away for just over five months and had taken the _Gage_ to the edge of the Federation border, close to Cardassian territory, and too far for daily contact with home.

Not being able to see her smile each day, it was the last straw.

He was crawling out of his skin to hold her again. Five months spent reliving their last night – their first night – together. It felt like a lifetime in coming and then, as simply as it had happened, he was forced to leave again. Each morning he woke, found his bed empty, and wondered what he was still doing out there, in the middle of nowhere, without her.

This time, home would be different. This time, he would make the most of every moment, starting with the placement of a ring on her finger.

He made himself calm, drawing breath in and out with careful consideration just as he would before a sparring match. He held out the simple, sparkling ring. Then, the words fell from his lips, unwavering and sure.

"Will you marry me?"

"Hell, no."

With a groan, he spun on his heels to face Chakotay, standing in the doorway of his quarters. "You're an ass."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting a proposal," Chakotay teased with a wave. "Please, continue."

"Are we there yet?" he asked, closing the box, back now to the mirror. His packed bags had been thoughtfully stacked by the door, his suit jacket hung on a chair so as not to wrinkle. Uniform long since shed, he straightened his tie.

"Are you in a hurry, Ensign?"

"You could say that."

"Got a hot date?"

"I'm meeting her at 1900, if we're late…."

"If we're late, she'll understand. Just like she understood when we were delayed three weeks last time."

"I was going to say, if we're late I'm going to sweat through this shirt."

"Well, then it's a good thing we're running on schedule. Half-hour and we'll be in orbit. Another two and you'll be a committed man."

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I'm already that."

"I've noticed."

"Are you here just to give me grief, or was there something else you needed?"

"Actually," Chakotay said, producing a padd from behind his back, "I come bearing good news. Your transfer has been approved."

His eyes widened, a deep grin unstoppable on his face. "It has?"

Chakotay nodded, handing him the orders. "As of next week, you'll be the personal security guard for Admiral Ross. Not too shabby."

"That's… incredible."

"You might not be home every night," Chakotay reminded.

"But I'll be an awful lot closer than this ship would keep me." Everything was coming together, morphing and growing to create a life that didn't exist a short while ago. The formality of this duty change gave way to a sinking fear of the unknown. Everything hinged on her answer.

 _When I'm with her, everything feels different_ , he reminded himself. _She loves me. I know it when she's near. She's going to say yes._

"You look like you need a drink," Chakotay observed, moving to the dining area where he promptly removed two glasses.

"Several. I need several drinks."

Chakotay obliged and the glasses were toasted together.

He felt Chakotay's eyes on him as he sipped. "Mike, what's going on? You're more nervous right now then I've seen you with a knife to your throat. She's not going to kill you, she's going to be your wife."

He swallowed back the rest of his drink then set it with a thud and indicated another which was quickly poured.

"I'm not nervous, Chakotay. I know she'll say yes."

"What then?"

He took a deep breath, leaned back and considered his the man before him. They were alike in many ways, not just physically – tall, broad shouldered, dark hair – but personally as well. Both men were extremely private, fiercely loyal, brave and honorable to a tee. But something had changed within him since meeting Anna to set them apart. It was true that Chakotay was older, more experienced in some ways, but he suspected that in this situation, his friend simply couldn't relate. There was more to his life than duty now, more than a set of ideals to uphold.

He had one single person to protect and provide for, but more importantly, he had someone to do the same in return. He was about to solidify his part on an unbreakable team.

"Someday, Chakotay," he said, finally. "Someday I hope you'll understand."

"Well, I wish you both the best. And she'd better make this worth it, she's taking away my best sparring partner," Chakotay swallowed back the remainder of his glass. "I hope we cross paths again someday."

"Yeah," he replied sarcastically. "You ever settle down, we can be neighbors."

Chakotay let out a chuckle and observed the pensive ensign one final time. "Hard to believe, in a little while she'll be wearing your ring, having your children; you'll grow old and fat and happy together. And to think, I was there to see the start of it all."

"You know what I think?"

"What's that?" Chakotay asked, reaching for the bottle.

"I think that for a guy, you talk an awful lot."

* * *

 ** _May 2364_**

"Tell me again how many kids we're going to have," he asked. He watched while her fingertips traced lazy circles across his chest, avoiding an invisible scar so recently healed, wedding band glinting in the sunlight.

"Three," she answered with a smile. "This one, another boy and then a girl."

"We'll be outnumbered."

"There'll be lots of help on New Medellín," she reminded. "We're up to thirty-five families last I checked."

"Ah yes, I can see it now. All you women-folk cooking and knitting and walking around barefoot and pregnant while we big, strong men go out and hunt for food," he finished with a flourish, thudding his bare chest with his fist.

"Right. That's exactly how it's going to be. Because this colony is being founded in the year 1564," she replied with an eye roll and a nudge to his ribs. " _Dios_. 2364. Time really has flown by, hasn't it? Hard to believe we've only got a week until we leave."

"It's not like we won't be coming back."

"I know. But it won't be the same. We'll have a new home, a new life, new friends…"

"You're sure about this, right?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "Cause I know I already resigned, but if you want to stay here..."

"No," she said emphatically. "I mean, yes. I want to go. Absolutely. I think we could use a fresh start."

He allowed a brief moment to reflect on the events of the previous month. His near failure to protect Admiral Ross, resulting in life-threatening injuries for both of them, and his subsequent recovery still weighed heavy on his mind. He was ready for something more stimulating than trailing dignitaries, less dangerous than throwing himself in front of a weapon for the sake of duty. When he had turned in his uniform, it felt like relief.

Next to him, she continued, "All of those new things are going to be extra special because we'll get to build them and do them together, just us. I want our son to be born there, the first one. Jose will be a pioneer." She patted her barely-showing belly.

"That is _muy especial_ ," he agreed.

"Besides, I made a commitment. Those kids in the colony are going to need a good teacher. And a good, well… whatever it is that you do."

"I do lots of things."

"I know. You're a regular Miguel of all trades."

"That's right," he said feigning a huff. "And don't you forget it."

"You're adorable," she laughed. "And you absolutely do a lot of things very well. I know you'll provide for our family, you'll be a big part of making sure everyone thrives out there. And that we are safe. I have no doubt about that."

His confidence temporarily restored, he sighed. "Hm… Is there any one thing that you think I do particularly well? You know, some extra-special talent I should offer to the settlement?"

"Why Miguel Ayala, are you fishing for compliments?"

"Just wondering if there's anything I should brush up on before we go," he said with a nip to the bottom of her ear and a seductive kiss placed just below it.

"Mmm…" she moaned, twisting her body back around his. "There are a few things you could stand to work on. But _not_ with the rest of the colony."

" _Yo sabía_ , I knew I should have gotten more practice in before I let you tie me down," he said with a mischievous smile.

"Oh!" Anna exclaimed, reaching suddenly for the pillow under her head and raising it to smack him. He grabbed it from her hands and tossed it aside, pulling her onto his body and holding her there firmly by her arms, her swollen breasts brushing against him. She hesitated only a moment and then her lips were happily on his once again.

* * *

 ** _November 1, 2373_**

The door chimes and he figures it's about time. He doesn't need to ask the computer who has come, he doesn't even bother to turn around when it slides open. He simply leans forward, takes the picture of her, now faded and worn at the edges, and puts it back in his pocket.

"'Bout time," he says to the stars as they whizz pass his window.

"Busy?"

"Booked solid."

Chakotay rounds the small dining table and he feels a hand push into the back of his chair. Without a word, a bottle and two glasses appear on the table between him and the window.

"I don't think I ever made good on that bet we had," Chakotay says, uncorking the opaque, green bottle.

He watches as the drinks are poured. "I didn't expect you ever would."

"I've been busy."

"It's not Guaro, is it?"

Chakotay snorts, holding the glass out to his friend. "Sikarian Whiskey. I promised you my best, this is it."

He swirls the liquid around in the glass, breathing in the woody aroma as Chakotay raises his.

"Ten years."

"Ten years," he moves in weak salute then takes a thoughtful sip.

"You know she's still waiting for you."

"I do."

He watches his friend nod and relax back into the couch.

"That was one hell of a party her father threw."

"It was."

"Think her sister ever found a guy to put up with her?"

"Probably not."

He drains the last of his glass and sets it down on the table and watches as Chakotay does the same.

"I'm a lousy substitute for the date you should be having," remarks Chakotay.

"Boy, you got that right."

* * *

 _ **Notes:** There will be more of this series coming from Mia and me (there are other stories already in it as well). I will add them to my profile page as they are created. Thanks for reading!_


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